


Various Storms and Saints

by atamasco



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Dissociation, Dissociation during sex, Eating Disorders, I know what it looks like but I swear I love John Silver, M/M, Post Season 4, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Touch Aversion, implied past sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 08:06:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atamasco/pseuds/atamasco
Summary: The peace that James, Thomas and Silver live in is disturbed when the horrors of Silver’s past resurface and distort the relationship between the three of them.





	Various Storms and Saints

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to keep this fic safe, so there are no mentions or descriptions of anything graphic. Things are only implied. Because this fic is not about what happened exactly in the past, but about how it affects the present. 
> 
> I did research for this fic and I tried my best to write an honest and respectful story, but if there’s anything that’s terribly unrealistic or out of place please don’t hesitate to let me know. I don’t mean to upset anyone or make anyone cringe.

They are in bed with the three of them, Thomas and James and Silver, caught up in heated kisses and eager touching when James notices something is off.

The first sign is how Silver’s fingers dig into James’ upper arms just a little too harshly, his nails leaving tiny purple crescents on James’ skin.

The second sign is the completely blank expression that James sees on Silver’s face. His eyes are open, yet seem unseeing and unfocused. His breath comes ragged. A little panting isn’t strange with what they’re currently doing, but with how shallow Silver’s breaths are it would be a miracle if he was getting any air into his lungs at all.

“Silver,” James says, trying to get his attention.

Silver doesn’t respond. He doesn’t look up. He just keeps staring ahead of him, as if seeing right through James.

“Silver,” James calls again.

Still, Silver doesn’t react in any way. Maybe he’s just gotten a bit lost in all the sensations, James tells himself. But that look in Silver’s eyes – that isn’t pleasure. It’s something else, something that he recognises because he’s seen it before, but never in these circumstances.

The look in Silver’s eyes is _fear._

“John,” James says, trying not to let the impending panic sound through in his voice.

Silver seems miles away. It’s almost like he isn’t really there. Like he’s lost in his mind, in a place where James can’t reach him, leaving his body an empty shell.

Thomas, sitting behind Silver, notices the concerned tone in James’ voice and holds still. He looks at James over Silver’s shoulder, one eyebrow quirked in confusion. “James?”

“Thomas, wait.”

“What is it?”

“It’s Silver.”

Thomas looks at Silver, staring at the back of his head. “Is he alright?”

The tightness in James’ chest grows as he has to admit, “I don’t know.”

James cups Silver’s face with his hands and tilts his head up, trying to make him look into James’ eyes. Silver’s eyes are on him, but James isn’t sure if Silver is actually _seeing_ him. 

Thomas puts a hand on Silver’s shoulder and brings his mouth close to Silver’s ear. “John?” he whispers.  

Silver closes his eyes, and then, fuck, Silver _whimpers_ _–_ almost inaudibly, but James catches it, a strangled noise leaving Silver’s throat, soft and miserable like a wounded animal. The sound cuts right through James’ heart. He’s sure now – something’s horribly wrong.

Thomas has heard it too. Startled at Silver’s reaction, he lets go of Silver and sits back at the far end of the bed.

“John,” James says. He feels a wave of panic rising inside him but he forces himself to remain calm until he knows what’s going on. “John, look at me.”

It’s no use. James’ voice still doesn’t seem to be able to reach him. He wants to shake Silver, pinch his arm, anything to pull him out of this state, but he fears that doing something like that will only make this worse, whatever the fuck this is. So instead, he gently pulls Silver to him, and Silver lets him, although his body remains tense. James wraps his arms around him and holds him close. He calls Silver’s name again and again, but it’s no use. Silver just lies there in his arms, unmoving, letting out soft, damp breaths against James’ collarbones.

James glances over to Thomas. Thomas stares at them, panting, his expression a mix of confusion and dread. Thomas and James share a look – neither of them understands what’s going on.

Thomas gets up. He looks around for his breeches and his shirt, puts them on and leaves the room.

James sits there with Silver for a while – he doesn’t know how long exactly. It could be a couple of minutes, or more than an hour. All he knows is that Silver’s breathing slowly returns to normal, and that his muscles relax. Slowly but surely his body melts into James, and James feels confident enough to move.

“I’m just going to…I need to…” He doesn’t even know if Silver can hear him.

James gently pushes Silver off him. He gets out of the bed without letting go of Silver, then carefully lowers Silver until he’s lying on the bed. He pulls the blanket over Silver, up to his shoulder. He doesn’t know if he’s doing anything right or wrong because Silver gives no sign of either comfort or discomfort. Somehow James feels like he needs to stay in touch with Silver, but he has to let go for a moment to grab his breeches, lying discarded on the floor, and put them back on. When he is decent he sits down on the floor next to the bed, his forearms resting on the mattress. He looks at Silver, who’s lying all curled up with his hands clenched into fists and pressed to his chest, his legs drawn up. Almost like a newborn. His bright blue eyes are open, staring at nothing.

James touches his arm. “John.” He swallows nervously. “Say something, please. Are you hurt? Do you want me to go? Do you need anything?”

Silver’s lack of response frustrates James almost as much as it worries him **.** Silver’s mouth is always running, the man somehow finds it incredibly difficult to keep his mouth shut for longer than a minute, and James has often cursed that side of him, but right now all he wishes is for Silver to return to his normal self and simply speak. James runs his hand up and down over Silver’s forearm in a repetitive motion, and he can only hope that it’s somehow a comfort to him. It’s all James can think to do right now.

Eventually Silver closes his eyes and James assumes that he has fallen asleep.

James quietly leaves the room and walks into the living room, where he finds Thomas sitting in a chair by the hearth, staring at the pile of ashes resting in the centre of it.

James pulls up a chair and sits down next to Thomas. He rubs a hand over his face and lets out a deep sigh – he hadn’t noticed that he had been holding his breath.  

“He’s sleeping,” James says.  

Thomas looks up at him. “What on earth just happened?” he asks softly, as if speaking out loud makes the situation more real.

“I don’t know,” James says, frowning. Because he really doesn’t know. He’s only now allowing the realisation of it to dawn over him. They were being intimate, him and Thomas and Silver, and everything was fine until it suddenly seemed like Silver wasn’t _there_ anymore – just like that, from one moment to the next.

“Did I – Was it something I did?” Thomas asks, a worried look on his face. “Because I know myself. I know I can get a bit… _dominant_ , in the heat of the moment. But I never meant to hurt him.”

“I honestly don’t know,” is all James can say. He wishes he could give Thomas a comforting answer, but they would both see through the lie all too easily.

They sit in silence for a while, each trying to figure out what it was that made Silver change so suddenly, but unable to find any answer.

 

***

Some days later, James and Thomas are walking down the road that leads into town. It’s still early in the day. James is pulling a heavy cart with fruits and vegetables from their garden that they’re planning to sell on the daily market.

After that day, James hadn’t dared to touch Silver again. In fact, he tried to avoid any physical contact with him. He didn’t want to risk putting Silver through that again, whatever it was. Thomas seemed to take the same approach with Silver, although it was less obvious because they never really touched in the first place – except during their threesomes.

Silver, of course, acted like nothing had happened, which also didn’t help for the awkward tension between the three of them. He didn’t mention the incident and went on with his days the same way he always did. He didn’t say anything about Thomas’ and James’ changed behaviour, but James was sure he had noticed it. They were usually quite… _eager_ , and the only times any of them went without sex for longer than three days was when one of them had fallen ill.

It had almost been a week by now.

Thomas and James walk by side, their shoulders bumping into each other occasionally. The sun has barely risen above the treeline but the air is already hot and humid. Drops of sweat trickle down the back of James’ neck.

“I slept with him,” Thomas says.

James takes a few more steps, then stops. Following his example, Thomas stops too. He looks at James, waiting for his reaction. James puts down the cart and takes a moment to catch his breath.

“When?”

“Two days ago.”

They had never really talked about their relationship, the three of them. They just let it happen, and it had formed itself naturally. James and Thomas slept with each other; Silver and James slept with each other; and sometimes – actually, quite often as of late – James and Thomas and Silver slept with each other. At least, that’s how James thought it was. For some reason, he never considered the possibility that Thomas and Silver might seek each other too.

Without James.

“Was it…Did you do this before?”

“No,” Thomas says. “This was the first time it was just the two of us. I must say, I was surprised too. I wasn’t actually sure how much he really fancied me,” he says, smiling carefully.

James doesn’t understand how he didn’t notice, although he doesn’t know what it is that he should have noticed exactly. He should have felt it, that something was different. Different between Silver and Thomas. But, looking back, he can’t find any such signs. Besides, he doesn’t understand how they were able to find a moment when James wasn’t there to disturb them. They rarely have a private moment in the house as there is always someone around. They put up with the three of them a lot, although they each need their moments alone too. They are that kind of men; each carrying their own demons.

James nods. “Okay. It’s fine. Of course it’s fine. You don’t need my permission for anything.”

“I know. I just thought you might like to know. I don’t have any secrets for you.”

James turns to continue in the direction of the town, but hesitates. He looks back at Thomas.

“Was it…was he...?”

“He seemed fine. He initiated it.”

Silver wanted to sleep with Thomas. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? It means that he wasn’t scared off by what happened to him, between them. And what happened wasn’t Thomas’ fault, clearly – otherwise Silver wouldn’t have come to him.

Which makes it all the more poignant that Silver didn’t come to James.

James breath hitches at the realisation. It might be that Silver doesn’t want to sleep with James anymore. It might be that it was something about him that made Silver behave so strangely.

There’s a tremor in James’ voice when he asks, “He didn’t say anything about last time?”

Thomas shakes his head. “Nothing.”

Silver not talking to Thomas about last time doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he just doesn’t want to discuss it – it’s very like him to keep things bottled up. And he doesn’t have to discuss anything, does he? He doesn’t owe anything to either of them. They never talked about what’s going on between the three of them so James can’t demand any kind of explanation from Silver now. Silver wants to sleep with Thomas and not with James and that’s just how it’s going to be from now on. That’s just what he’s going to have to accept. It’s fine – James is fine with this. If that’s how it is, he’ll give them all the space they need. He won’t be in their way. He wouldn’t dare to.

“I asked him, after. _Why now_ ; _why me_?” Thomas says.

James stares down at his dust-covered boots, scared for the answer.

Thomas continues, “And he said, _because you won’t hold back_.”

So he did say something. Silver told Thomas that he won’t hold back – which leads to the conclusion that he thinks that James will. Silver thinks that James will hold back, and James can’t deny that he’s right; James _would_ hold back. Of course he would. After what happened last time he would be scared of hurting Silver. But Silver doesn’t want that from him, that carefulness. Even more so, he hates it so much that he’s decided to avoid James altogether. James almost doesn’t dare to think it, but – could it be that James’ tenderness with him is exactly what upset Silver in the first place?

James feels awful. All he’s ever wanted is for Silver to be happy, everything James has ever done was to make him feel good and safe and loved, and all that’s done is scare him off.

Thomas must see the hurt written on James’ face. He steps closer. “I think what he meant was that he doesn’t want you to pity him. To look at him differently.”

James always tries to be considerate of Silver. He’ll give him anything, do anything for him, even if he doesn’t understand why, even if he gets nothing in return. He’s always there when Silver needs him. Silver asks, and he gives. And this is the result – he has pushed Silver away.  

James’ eye twitches. “How on earth does he expect me to deal with this? He never talks to me, never tells me anything! But this, this is too much to just ignore. This is too…precarious.”

Thomas places a hand on James’ arm.

“Give it some time,” he says. “What happened must be a shock for him too. I’m sure he’ll come to you when he wants to.”

James isn’t so sure. He suspects this could drag on forever if none of them take a step to resolve things. All he can do, is wait, and he hates waiting.

 

***

James remains his patience for a staggering thirty-one hours and sixteen minutes.

It’s late in the afternoon. Thomas is sitting outside in their garden, writing one of his essays under the shadow of the trees.

Silver sits at the kitchen table, bent over a shirt that he has splayed out on the table’s surface, a spool of thread and a pin cushion lying next to it. Silver tries to pry a piece of thread through the tiny hole in the needle when James walks into the kitchen, carrying a heavy box of potatoes he’s just dug out of the earth. He sets it down onto the table with force, right in front of Silver. Silver doesn’t seem startled; more so _offended,_ if his expression is anything to go by _._ He looks at the box, then looks up at James.

“If you think I’m going to peel those, you’re wrong,” Silver says. “I peeled potatoes once and I swore to never do that again in my life.”

“We need to talk,” James announces.

“Well, that’s a first,” Silver says with a smug grin on his face. “Since you’re always complaining about me talking too much.” He turns his attention back to his handwork. He’s finally managed to pry the thread through the needle and is now pushing the needle into the fabric of the shirt.

“I’m serious. I want to talk to you about the other day.”

Silver feigns a look of innocent naiveté. “There are a lot of days I can imagine you would like to talk to me about. Which one do you mean specifically?”

James grits his teeth. “I mean the time when you zoned the fuck out while the three of us were fucking.”

Silver pinches himself with the needle. “ _Fuck_ ,” he swears softly under his breath. He puts his thumb in his mouth, sucking up the blood. He gets up, grabs his crutch and walks around the table towards the kitchen counter. He stays at the far end, at a distance from James.

“You wouldn’t respond to anything I said,” James says. “You scared us. Would you please tell me what that was about?”

Silver picks up a towel and dabs the blood from his finger. “I’m sorry but I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing happened.”

James knew that talking to Silver wouldn’t be easy. If he goes about it softly, if he manages to keep his temper, then maybe he can find an opening into a proper conversation.

“Silver. I know you don’t like to talk about things. You don’t have to tell me what it was exactly. But this is not something that I can just ignore. That _any_ of us can ignore.”

“What is there ignore when nothing happened?” Silver says, and shrugs. “Problem solved.”

James clenches his jaw, trying to stay calm, trying his hardest not to scare Silver off while making sure Silver understands how serious James is about this.

“You were _gone._ You looked like you were _hurt._ Just… tell me what happened when we were…Help me understand. So we can prevent it from happening again.”

Silver is standing half-turned away from him. James can only see a sliver of his face, too little to make out his expression.

“Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I say so.”

James lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t think you actually believe it is that simple. You’re insulting both our intelligence if you think you can make me believe that.”

Silver finally looks at James, and smiles at him. “Honestly James, don’t worry about it. It was nothing. I promise it won’t happen again.”

The way Silver is talking one would think that James was blaming him of something insignificant, like forgetting to put the trash out. James doesn’t know how he can make Silver understand that what he’s trying to get at is far more severe than that without pushing Silver away.

Silver sits back in the chair, returns to fixing the shirt and apparently that’s the end of their conversation. Silver seems unbothered while James is frustrated because he got nothing out of this. It’s impossible for him to make any sense of the incident when Silver is denying that anything happened in the first place.

But then again, did James really expect any different from him?

James’ grandfather was a fisherman. When James was a little boy, his grandfather would take James with him occasionally as he went sailing on the open sea. He showed James all the creatures that got caught in the nets, beside the fish – crabs and shrimps and eels. James was especially fascinated by the scallops and clams; strange creatures that never showed themselves, but always stayed hidden in their shell.

In some ways, Silver reminds James of a shell: Never allowing a glance past its exterior, because when you pick it up for closer inspection it quickly shuts itself. You know there’s something living inside, underneath that hard shell, but you never get to see it.

James understands that there is no use in pushing him.

Opening the shell with force will kill the creature.

 

***

James has decided not to try to talk to Silver again. Perhaps he’s overreacting and perhaps it’s like Silver said; it was nothing and it won’t happen again. For all James knows Silver could be right about this. After all, he’s the one who should know, right?

Still, the situation drags on without progress. The tension between the three of them only grows the more they try to ignore it. Silver is acting way too casually while Thomas and James are walking on eggshells. It is only when Madi visits them from the Maroon island that the tension is somewhat relieved, with something else to focus on. Madi’s presence has a calming effect on all three men, with her ever-balanced nature. But she is also observant. She quickly notices the atmosphere between the three of them that hangs throughout the house like a suffocating cloud. When she catches a moment with Thomas and James alone she confronts them.

“So, which one of you is going to tell me what is going on with the three of you?”

James and Thomas share a look. James moves his hand through his hair, uncomfortable, unsure where to start.

So Thomas takes it upon him to begin. “Nothing is going on with us, which is exactly the problem. We’re all sort of avoiding each other because of something that none of us know how to deal with.”

“I figured as much,” Madi says.

Thomas clears his throat. “A couple of days ago, something happened while the three of us were being intimate. I didn’t really see what happened, but according to James, from one moment to the next, Silver was not feeling well.”

“It was so strange, so sudden,” James says. “It was like he wasn’t there anymore, somehow. He was all tense and just… _gone_. He wouldn’t respond to anything I did or said.”

Madi frowns, concerned. “Have you tried talking to him about this?”

James sighs. “We have. But you know what he’s like.”

“I suppose so.” She looks down in thought.

“We don’t know what to do with the situation, and we’re starting to feel rather helpless,” Thomas says. “If there’s anything you know we could do… or if you could talk to him somehow…”

“I wish there was something I knew to do, but I’m afraid I don’t know how to help you with this,” Madi says. “I’m unfamiliar with the situation.” She frowns. “Although, it does remind me of something, or rather someone; a woman at our camp. A friend of mine. She was a slave at a plantation, until a revolt broke out and she saw a chance to escape. She came to our camp and found a husband there. She told me once, during a private conversation, that she was having trouble being intimate with her husband. That sometimes when they were sharing a bed she felt like she was not present in her body, but floating above it somehow. It was an unpleasant feeling. It scared her. Once she was in that state, it was very hard for her to return to herself.”

James lets Madi’s words sink in. “Do you think Silver is experiencing something similar?”

“He might be. What you describe sounds similar to me, at least.”

Thomas sits up. “Do you know why that woman was experiencing this? Do you know what caused it?”

Madi takes another breath, avoiding James’ and Thomas’ gaze. She has one hand placed at the belt around her waist, touching her core, just below her ribs. She does that when she’s nervous; when she needs strength.

“For her, it was a result of something she had been through. She was raped by the owner of the plantation.”

For a minute, none of them say anything, fallen silent after Madi’s words. There is only the sound of insects buzzing outside, birds calling from far away.

James looks down at his hands. The thought that something similar might have happened to Silver, that he might have been…

James’ stomach turns at the thought. His heart fills with rage at whoever might have done something like that to Silver.

Silver told him once, about what his past had taught him: that the world was a place of unending horrors. This could be one of those horrors. This could be one of the things that had traumatised him so deeply he was forever unable to speak about them.

James clenches his jaw, fighting back the tears that suddenly well up in his eyes. It is too much. He feels like he could cry for what Silver has had to go through in his life, and how these things keep haunting him.

Madi finally breaks the silence in the room. “This is just what I know. We cannot be sure that it is the same with Silver.”

“I don’t understand,” James says in a strangled voice. “What is it that makes him change like that all of a sudden?”

“As I understand it, it’s a kind of defence,” Madi explains. “When put under extreme stress, the psyche finds a way to protect itself by leaving the body, so to speak.”

 _Defence?_ _Extreme stress?_ “But why does he feel that way with us?” James says, and chokes up. Questions are clogging his mind. Have they been forcing themselves onto Silver? Has James never noticed before that Silver might not be comfortable? He feels himself getting sick at the thought of what he might have been putting Silver through all this time without even knowing.

“My friend told me that her husband did everything he could to make her feel comfortable. Yet she couldn’t help it. The trauma was too deep.”

James closes his eyes. He breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to contain himself.

Thomas senses James’ distress and places his hand on James’ back as a supportive touch. He turns to Madi. “Did she and her husband find a way to cope with this?”

Madi looks over to him. “Time, and patience. There is no easy way to heal a wound so deep. It may never fully heal. They talked a lot. Communication was an important part of the healing process.”

James swallows the lump in his throat. “Like I said, he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Let me try it,” Madi says. “Perhaps he will tell me something about what he’s feeling.”  

 

***

After the things that Madi said, James can hardly bear to look at Silver. He doesn’t dare to look him in the eye because he can’t stop thinking about it, and he fears that Silver will easily read his thoughts from his face.

 _Oh, Silver,_ he thinks when he looks at him. _Oh, what burdens are you carrying. What horrors are you hiding._ James cannot begin to imagine how hard it must be for him to live with these things inside him. How much strength it must take to suppress it all and keep going.

James doesn’t know what to do with the aimless anger simmering inside him. When he thought Thomas was dead, he hunted down Thomas’ father and slaughtered him in cold blood. When Miranda died in Peter Ashe’s house, he ran Peter through with his sword at the first chance he had. But now, with Silver, he doesn’t know who his enemy is. Who he’s supposed to take revenge on for hurting his loved ones. He flexes his hands, stretching and curling his fingers, yearning for the touch of a sword, a pistol, any weapon.

He goes to the shed at the edge of the land. He looks at the tools hanging on the walls, lying on the benches. He tries to think of which one he should pick, what he’s supposed to do in the garden today, where he left off yesterday, but the moment his fingers touch something he loses it.

There is no sound when he bangs both his fists down onto the wooden bench. There is no sound when he wipes everything on it to the floor with his arm. There is no sound when he throws boxes and pots against the walls.

When he returns to himself he is sitting on the floor, surrounded by shards. His heart is beating rapidly in his chest and his breath comes ragged. Strands of hair have fallen into his face from where he had partly tied it up at the back of his head. He looks at his hands – his knuckles are bloody from his punches to the wall. He only remembers now, that he punched the wall.

He sits there and cries, because he’s powerless. There is nothing he can do for Silver. If there was a way he could reach into Silver’s past and undo all his hurt, he would, without any hesitation.

 

***

There are some changes in Silver’s behaviour. James will walk into the living room and catch Silver staring into nothingness before he turns his head and smiles at James serenely. James barely even sees Silver during the day because Silver stays in bed till noon and stays up late into the night. He looks more and more tired every day.

James is working in the garden when he hears shouting coming from the house. The door flies open and Silver storms out, closely followed by Madi.

“I can’t believe the nerve of you people. Don’t even think about coming after me,” Silver shouts at Madi over his shoulder as he stalks away onto the road into town.

Madi stands frozen in front of the house, looking helpless, alone in the middle of a storm. James walks over to her. She tries to keep her back straight, her expression controlled, but when she speaks her voice is trembling with emotion.  

“I only asked him to tell me what happened with the three of you. I only told him that we want to help him.”

James places a hand on her shoulder. They watch Silver stalk off, until he disappears behind the curve of the road.

 

***

It’s late in the evening when Silver returns.

Thomas and Madi have already gone to bed. James is sitting in a chair in the living room, watching the fire that’s burning in the fireplace. His mind is unable to focus with everything that’s going on these days. He tries to find comfort in his books, in stories that take him far away, to places where no matter what happens there will always be a happy ending. Stories that tell him there is good in people; that any hurt can be healed.

James thought the wisdom of the ancient Greeks might comfort him. It only took a couple of pages for him to find out he was gravely mistaken. Every other story told of some lustful god forcing himself upon a forest nymph or a mortal princess. James had thrown the book into the fireplace and watched it smoulder since.

The door opens with a creak. James turns his head to see Silver standing in the doorframe. Silver closes the door behind him and, without saying a word, walks over to James, throws his crutch to the floor and sits down in James’ lap, straddling him.

James, although startled by the sudden action, puts his hands on Silver’s hips. Silver pulls his shirt over his head and throws it aside, making James face his bare chest. Silver pulls James’ shirt free from his breeches and slips his hands underneath. His warm hands roam over James’ skin, press themselves to his belly, his ribs, his chest.

“Silver,” James breathes, brushing his thumbs over Silver’s hipbones. They should talk, they should be reasonable and properly deal with the things that have happened in the past couple of days. But James has missed him, has missed having Silver close to him, and he finds himself unable to deny the craving deep inside him when Silver is right here under his hands.

“Silver.”

“That’s me. Hello,” Silver says with a smile. His breath smells of booze.

Silver likes a drink, not more or less than any of them, but James can’t remember ever having seen him drunk. It’s not like him to lose control of himself like that, dulling his senses with any kind of substance.  

Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea after all.

James takes hold of Silver’s wrists and gently plucks his hands off his body. “We’re not doing this. Not until you’re sober, at least.”

“Come on James, don’t be shy now,” Silver laughs at him.

“Silver, please.”

Silver’s mood quickly changes from giggly to annoyed. “Just tell me if you don’t want me anymore. Don’t pretend nothing has changed. I know you’ve been avoiding me.”

“That’s not why – We can’t talk like this. There’s no use in talking while you’re like this.”

“Try me. Ask me. You want to know, right?” Silver says with a pained smile. “You and Madi and Thomas all want to know. So just ask me. I’m drunk, you might as well take advantage of that. Perhaps it will be easier for me to tell you something while in this state. I might just let it slip without meaning to –”

“Silver, _stop it._ You know it’s not like that. I don’t want to know anything you don’t wish to tell me.”

Silver wriggles in James’ lap, pulls at James’ grip on his wrists. James lets him go, at which Silver balls his hands into James’ shirt and pulls at it in frustration.

“Why is it then that you can’t bear to touch me anymore? What are you so afraid of?”

“Silver, look at me,” James commands.

Silver looks up. His pupils are blown wide.

James frowns, a look of concern on his face. “I’m not afraid. I’m _worried_ about you.”

Silver lets out a bitter-sounding laugh. “You have an odd way of showing that. Avoiding me like I’m a goddamn leper, talking behind my back –”

“For God’s sake, what do you expect us to do when you refuse to talk to us?! How are we supposed to understand –”

“I don’t fucking know, alright?! I don’t know what the fuck is happening to me!” Silver cries out.

His hands, clutched into the fabric of James’ shirt, are shaking.

Silver is smart. Had he been born in another place, in another class, he could have been something. A name to be remembered through the ages. Silver knows he’s smart. He relies on his brains to make sense of the world around him. So, for him to not be able to make sense of his own feelings – that must be torture.

Silver sits in James’ lap, his face hidden behind a curtain of hair. “I’m tired,” he says quietly.

“Let’s get you to bed,” James says softly, and helps Silver get up to guide him to the guest room. James wants to hear Silver out but it’s probably best to wait till morning, when he’s sobered up.

As they slowly make their way over there, Madi comes out of her room.

“Is everything alright?” she asks. “I heard shouting.”

“It’s fine,” James says. “He’s just had too much to drink. I’m taking him to the guest room.”

“It’s alright, let him sleep here.” Madi opens the door to the bedroom further to make way for James and Silver.

The two of them help Silver undress for a part, while he mumbles and giggles incoherently. When he flops onto the bed, they lie down next to him on either side so he’s pressed in between them, with their arms wrapped around him protectively.

While both Silver’s and Madi’s breathing soon turns to a slow and steady rhythm, James lies awake for hours. For some reason the words of Marcus Aurelius keep drifting through his mind. They are usually a comfort to him, but considering current events they suddenly seem cold and harsh to James.

_Has something happened to you? That is good, because everything that happens to you has been meant for you from the beginning and has its place in the greater whole._

_Everything happens because it has to be so. If you sense correctly, you will see that this is true. I do not only mean that events happen in a certain order, but also that they are just, as if there were someone who gives you what you deserve. Keep sensing well and let everything you do be full of goodness in the true meaning of the word. Hold on to this in everything you do._  

Is that not the cruellest way to think? That all the bad things that can happen to a person are simply something they deserved?

Then again, it might be the only way to think; to accept fate as something inevitable, so as to rid oneself from guilt and shame.

 

***

James wakes up from a strange, slightly uncomfortable sensation he’s experiencing somewhere in his body. He opens his eyes and sees Silver lying next to him, his open eyes indicating that he’s awake. Madi is lying on his other side, still asleep. Silver is holding James’ hand, and with his other hand he caresses the scrapes on James’ knuckles. The tender brush of his fingers over the sensitive skin is what woke James up.

James feels naked; Silver has always been too good at reading him. It’s been a long time since James allowed himself to give in to his rage and he feels a little embarrassed about it now. He should know better by now than to let his temper cause senseless destruction.

“Sleep well?” James asks, voice still rumbly with sleep.

“Not bad, if you don’t count the headache,” Silver replies. He lays James’ hand down on his stomach, and places his own hand over James’.

Silver has slimmed down around the waist a little, James notices. Since Silver came to live with him and Thomas he had developed a little more meat on his bones as a result of receiving nutritious meals on a daily basis, provided by James most of the time as he was the best cook out of the three of them. But now it seems that bit of extra fat has vanished.

“You’ve lost some weight,” James remarks.

“I’ve been doing more physical labour lately. It’s nothing to worry about,” Silver says. He looks over to James and smiles at him. “You’ve just been spoiling me too much.”

James smiles back at him. “There is no greater compliment for a cook than a person who loves their food.”

On Silver’s other side, Madi stirs and opens her eyes, but quickly closes them again as they are still heavy with sleep.

Silver runs a hand over her hair. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he says, and turns back to James. “Look at that. She hears the word ‘food’ and immediately wakes up. I think someone’s hungry.”

“Good morning,” Madi sighs. She finally opens her eyes and looks up at Silver. “How are you feeling?”

Silver huffs. “Barely awake and already worrying about me. You two really are eerily similar, you know.”

“We just want you to be alright,” Madi says. “And to be honest you didn’t seem alright last night.”

“I’m a grown man,” Silver says. “If I want to get drunk, I get drunk. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to look after me and what I _really_ don’t need is for the two of you to pity me.”

“John, please,” Madi says softly. “We want to be here for you, but we can’t help you if you won’t let us.”  

“I’ve already told you I’m fine. What part of that do you not understand?”

“You want us to ignore this?” James asks. “Pretend like we don’t see what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on with me.”

James contemplates if this is the point where he should push on, try to find Silver’s breaking point, or if that would work out in completely the wrong way. You cannot solve a problem until you recognise that there is a problem, and Silver is still very much in denial about that.

“Tell me who I am,” Silver says.

Madi and James both frown, confused at the seemingly random request.

“What do you mean?” Madi asks.

“Tell me who you think I am. What kind of man I am. Or am I no more than a _pity_ and a _burden_ to you?”

“You know you’re not,” James says.

“So, tell me then.”

“Well, first of all, you’re smart,” James says.

“I always knew you liked me for my brains,” Silver snorts.  

“And you’re compassionate,” Madi adds.

Silver huffs. “If I can be considered compassionate then the bar is set incredibly low.”

“Shhh,” Madi hushes him. “Be quiet for once. You asked for _our_ opinions. We don’t need yours.”  

“It’s no use – He’s _stubborn_ ,” James says.

“And you two are _rude_ ,” Silver pouts.

“Let’s focus on the positive traits,” Madi says.  

“Handsome,” James says.

Silver snorts. “Agreed – but I believe that technically that wouldn’t count as a personality trait.”

“Alright. Charming _,_ then.”

The bedroom door creaks open. James turns his head to see Thomas standing in the doorframe, looking at the three of them.

“Good morning, my dears,” Thomas says. “I happened to overhear you talking. I think I missed the invitation for this party.”

“You’re invited now,” James says and reaches out to him. Thomas walks over to the bed and lies down next to James. They all have to scoot around a little bit to make room for him; it’s a tight fit, the four of them in a two-person bed, but it works.

“So, what were you all talking about just now?” Thomas asks, wrapping his arms around James’ waist.  

“We were discussing Silver’s personality traits,” Madi says as she props herself up on one elbow.

“What an interesting subject for the early morning. I think I might have some valuable additions to make.”

“Oh, do you, now,” Silver says.

“Please try to keep it decent, Thomas,” James warns.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, darling,” Thomas says with a cheeky smile. “All I wanted to say is that in my eyes, Silver is… charming. Clever. And – I’m looking for a word that sits somewhere between _persuasive_ and _manipulative_.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Silver says.

“We were trying to focus on the positive traits,” James says.

“I mean it very positively,” Thomas says. “Not many dare to take it up against me in an argument, but he certainly knows his way with words.”

James turns to Silver. “Which reminds me of another important one – You’re brave.”

Silver snorts. “Yeah, very funny.”

“I’m serious,” James says.  

“Are you kidding me? I am the biggest fucking coward of the New World, and the Old one.”

“I agree with James,” Madi says. “You came to save me when I was being held captive on Rogers’ ship. You’re a brave man.”

“A brave man,” Silver says to himself.

“You lost your leg for protecting the lives of the Walrus crew,” James adds. “When we fought the English in the square in Nassau you had only had minimal combat training, yet you stood your ground and faced them.”

Silver stares at the ceiling. “I’m brave,” he mumbles.

“I cannot attest to any of those instances,” Thomas says, “but if I may add: You came back here with Madi, ten years after you and James had last seen each other. You had no idea how he would react, if he would welcome you or if he would still be mad at you, yet you came. That must have taken quite some courage, I can imagine.”

“Courage,” Silver repeats.  

James kisses Silver’s shoulder. “There. That’s the kind of man you are.”

Silver nervously plucks at the skin around his nails. “Who’s this man you’re all talking about?” he says, frowning. “Have you secretly been seeing someone else?”  

“How could we forget to mention your marvellous sense of humour,” Thomas says dryly.  

“Whether you believe it yourself or not,” Madi says to Silver, “it is the man you are in _our_ eyes.”

“Alright, alright. It’s fine. I’m not really the jealous type anyway,” Silver says.

James sighs. Thomas chuckles. Madi rolls her eyes.

And they all snuggle up a little tighter.

 

***

Madi and Thomas have left home for a couple of days to meet up with people who are supportive of their progressive causes, leaving the house to James and Silver.

They are taking baths today. James has placed a tub in front of the fireplace, a kettle hangs over the fire for a supply of hot water. Silver needs James’ support to get in the tub, to lean on him to keep his balance. After Silver has lowered himself into the water, James sits down next to the tub and helps Silver wash his hair. He gently rubs the soap into Silver’s scalp and combs his fingers through Silver’s curls to get the tangles out, starting at the ends and working his way up.

When Silver was undressing, James had noticed again that he’s getting thinner. James can see Silver’s ribs more clearly than he remembers, and the hollows of his cheeks seem to have gotten deeper. It worries him. Silver said it was because he had been doing more physical labour, but there’s not a lot he could be doing with his physical limitations. It can’t be that he’s not been eating properly; James cooks dinner and supper every day and Silver always eats more than enough for a grown man to stay at a healthy weight.

When Silver is done bathing, James helps him stand up. Silver has one arm draped over James’ shoulders, and James has his arm wrapped around Silver’s waist. They’re pressed together side to side.

As Silver steps out of the tub water drips down over his body, his long dark hair sticks to his back and shoulders. For at least five full seconds James thinks that the biggest lie Silver has ever told him is to make James believe that Silver is a mortal human being; because all James can see in him is a deity of breath-taking beauty, a male Venus rising from the foam of the sea – and all James wants to do is to sink to his knees and worship him.

Silver looks at James and his admiration must be clearly written on his face, because Silver smiles and says, “It really doesn’t take a lot for you to get turned on, does it?”

“ _You’re_ the one looking all perfect and stunning,” James grumbles.

Silver kisses James, turning in his grip and pressing his naked body against James’ clothed one. James’ other arm comes up so he can wrap them both around Silver’s waist and hold him close. He stays like that, waiting for Silver to decide how far he wants to take this.

Silver combs his fingers through James’ hair. “Come on, don’t be afraid. It’s fine. I want this. I want you.”

James rests his forehead against Silver’s. “What if it happens again?” he asks quietly, as if talking of something secret. “What should I do?”

Silver gives him a peck on the lips. “It’s not your problem. Don’t think about it.”

Any reply James would’ve given is cut off by Silver pressing his mouth to James’. Silver seems comfortable enough. He’s the one initiating this. Still, James can’t help but worry if they’re doing right by ignoring their issues.

“Stop thinking. I can almost hear you,” Silver says between their kisses.

“Complaining that I’m too loud – that’s a lot, coming from you,” James smiles against Silver’s mouth.

He moves his hand lower and feels Silver’s body stiffen.

He immediately pulls it back.

“James,” Silver says.

He should have known.

James wants to put distance between them, but he can’t just let go of Silver or he will lose his balance. It’s a terrible feeling to have someone trapped in your arms who’s repulsed of your touch.

If Silver is a shell, this is what he’s like when cracked open: soft and vulnerable in James’ open palm, completely at the mercy of his hands. And James can’t bear that burden while knowing his hands are well-practiced in destruction.

“James, wait…” Silver says.

James walks Silver over to the table so he can sit down in a chair and James can finally release him. He steps back, avoids looking at Silver as if even that might be wrong.

“I’m sorry,” James says.

Silver grabs his sleeve to stop him from walking away. “Don’t be. I should be the one saying that.”

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this if I don’t know when I’m hurting you.”

“You’re not hurting me.”

James needs to know. He needs to ask, even if he doesn’t want to know the answer. “If it was something I did… Would you tell me?” he asks quietly.

Silver’s bright blue eyes are surrounded by dark circles, making them stand out even more than usual. “It’s not your fault.”

“I would never mean to hurt you.”

“I know.”

James’ face twists in pain. “Then why can’t you bear for me to touch you anymore?”

It had taken James so much time and strength to accept himself for who he is, and then even more to allow himself to act upon his feelings, to tell himself that it’s okay to give in to them. That his hands are clean, and that there’s no need to feel ashamed. But right now, all the things he’s told himself seem like nothing more than thinly veiled lies. _See_ , he says to himself, _you were_ _right all along about the darkest parts of yourself. You were right to keep them suppressed within yourself lest they harm the people around you._ The thought that he’s hurt Silver makes him feel sick with guilt, sick with disgust over his own nature.

Silver just looks at him. “It’s not your fault,” he repeats.

They’re going in circles and James doesn’t know how to break them, so he stays silent.

Silver lets go of James’ sleeve and starts putting his clothes back on.  

James turns back to the tub. He sits kneeled on the floor, cleaning up the spilled water with a towel when he hears Silver’s voice coming from behind him.

“Ask me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Ask me what you want to know.”

James remains silent. He doesn’t know where to start.

Silver helps him. “You want to know what happened that day.”

He doesn’t know if he wants to know. James stays still and listens to Silver, holding his breath. He can hear his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

“Somehow I don’t remember much of it. Just that I felt…helpless. Trapped,” Silver says.

_Because you won’t hold back._

James slowly rises, stands up straight and turns to look at Silver. “Then why… You sought out Thomas. Why did you go to him and not me?” _Why could you bear his touch and not mine?_

Silver looks back at him. “It has nothing to do with you. Please believe me when I say that.” He looks away, to the floor. “I don’t know… I’m so sorry that I can’t explain it.” He fumbles with the hem of his shirt. “If I had to put it into words… With Thomas, I initiated it. I was in control.” Silver chokes up, struggling for words. “I don’t know why it happens, and why other times it doesn’t.”

He looks up at James. “I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry for this whole fucking mess.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t be. It’s alright. I know you don’t mean to… That you can’t help it.”

James feels the urge to reach out to Silver, to hold him close and comfort him, but he stops himself from doing so. He’s always been good at controlling himself like that. It’s like an old habit. It _is_ an old habit.

“You talked to Madi, right? You and Thomas,” Silver says. “She told me that you did.”

James lets his silence be his answer.

“What did she tell you?” Silver asks.

James fiddles with the towel in his hands. “Something about… a woman she knows who showed the same symptoms you do. About how your behaviour that day might have been the result of… some kind of survival instinct.”

Is James telling Silver anything new? Does Silver know these things about himself? Or is he hearing this for the first time? Does it make any sense to him?

Silver doesn’t say anything.

“You know that you don’t have to survive anymore, right?” James says softly, almost a whisper. “You’re safe here.” _You’re safe with me._

“You don’t understand,” Silver says. “It’s not about anything that might threaten me from the outside. It’s – ” Whatever he was about to say, he stops himself from doing so. He grabs his crutch. “I need some air.”

James watches Silver walk out the door. He stands there for a while, thinking about the things Silver said, until he turns back to his work.

When Silver eventually comes back inside, he ignores James and goes straight to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

In the evening, James knocks on Silver’s door to ask him if he wants to eat. James has made supper.

Silver comes out of his room. They eat in silence. When they’ve finished, James settles himself in a chair by the fire and picks up _Meditations_ again. Without Thomas and Madi around, he needs someone to tell him what to do, to tell him what is right. As he turns the page, he hears Silver walk out the door again.

_During difficult circumstances, think of those who the same has happened to and who have reacted to it with annoyance, surprise or dissatisfaction. Where have they gone? Nowhere. Now, is that what you want too? With everything that you do, just hold on to the wish to be good and remember that your intentions matter, whatever your choice may be._

James is trying desperately to do the right thing but it doesn’t seem to make anything better. Perhaps he has the wrong idea of what is good. Even so, his intentions are just. But what do his good intentions even matter if the _results_ are far from good?

When the sun has disappeared behind the horizon but it’s not yet dark, James goes outside to check on the chickens in the henhouse.

As he approaches the henhouse, he startles from a strange sound coming from the treeline. He walks closer and finds Silver standing there, bent over, one hand placed against a tree. He’s retching, the contents of his stomach falling into the grass.

James walks over to him. “Jesus Christ, are you alright?”

Silver startles visibly, a shock going through his body. After he gags out the last of it he turns his head and looks at James with big, scared eyes.

James stops at a few steps from Silver. “Are you ill?”

Silver’s eyes are watering and he’s panting heavily. “It’s nothing,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Just a stomach cramp.” He coughs.

“Don’t do this,” James says. “I can tell you’re not being honest with me.”

Silver grits his teeth. “It’s not of any concern to you, so if you’d please just fucking leave me be.”

James balls his fists at his sides. “I’m just asking you to tell me what you’re doing. Or is even that too much to ask?”

Silver looks at him for a moment. “Alright,” he says. “I’ll tell you. I’m throwing up because the supper you made was so bloody disgusti–”

James laughs over him, harsh and bitterly. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked. If you want to shut me out then fine, good luck with whatever it is you’re doing but don’t expect me to cook for you anymore if you’re going to retch it up here.”  

“Because that’s the most horrible part about all of this to you, isn’t it? A waste of food. Your hurt feelings. Your hurt pride.”

“ _My pride?_ What the hell are you talking about? I’m asking you a simple question and you can’t even fucking answer it. I thought something had changed this afternoon but you’re all back to your old self, putting up your defences, lying and twisting around the truth because – because why, really? What can possibly be so horrible that you can’t even bear the thought of being honest with me?”

Silver grips his crutch tightly, his knuckles turning white. “If you’d actually _listened_ to me this afternoon, you would’ve heard me saying that I don’t fucking _know._ There’s nothing I can tell you, no explanation that will satisfy your obsessive prying. I’ve told you everything I could. If that isn’t enough for you, then that’s your problem. Just fucking leave me be.”

“You come home completely pissed but you refuse to explain why.” Something pulls tight in his chest, stirs low in James’ gut when he says, “You freeze under my touch, but you can’t explain why. And that’s fine **–** I don’t need you to explain anything. Just, please, tell me what you need, how I can help you.”

 _Trust me,_ James wants to beg. _Trust me._

“I don’t _want_ your help. I don’t _need_ your help,” Silver spits at him. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. But there’s no shame in asking for help when –”

“For fuck’s sake, would you please just _fuck off?!_ ” Silver shouts at him.

It’s not like Silver to shout. It’s not like James to stay so calm. Everything feels out of place. They are too close on each other’s skin and there is no room to back off. There is no room to breathe.

James turns to walk away.

“Wait.”

James hesitates, even though he doesn’t want to. The bitter feeling inside him tells him to just walk away from Silver and leave him on his own, let him handle all the lies and chaos he’s carrying with him by himself. But the moment Silver reaches out to him he finds he doesn’t have it in him to be so cruel.

So James waits.

He expects Silver to say something, but he doesn’t.

James turns to look at him.

Silver is leaning against the tree, taking slow and deep breaths, his eyes closed. When he speaks again his voice sounds different than before. Smaller, somehow.

“The truth,” Silver says, “is that I come here every night. After supper, when you and Madi and Thomas are all busying yourself with your own things, I come here and make myself throw up. Everything I ate, I spit back out.” He bows his head in embarrassment over the confession. 

James just stands there, letting Silver’s words sink in.

“How long have you been doing this?”

Silver opens his eyes and they flicker into James’ direction, but he can’t bear to meet his gaze. “Not long. A while.”

This is the reason why Silver has been losing weight, James realises; because he’s throwing back up anything he eats. It must have been going on for quite some time already then, if it has affected his body like that. James feels stupid for not noticing how bad Silver is really doing. He’s secretly destroying himself and James should have noticed something, he should have done something to stop this. He should have known that the more Silver makes it seem like he’s okay, the more he’s really not.

“Why do you do this?” James asks.

Silver stares at the ground. “I don’t know exactly. I just like how it makes me feel… empty. Clean.” He huffs a laugh at his own words, a sense of wonder in his voice, as if what he’s talking of is distant, about someone else. “Christ, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore. It only seems to be getting worse. Everything’s spiralling out of control and this is the only thing that I feel like I can hold on to – what I eat, what I _don’t_ eat.”

Coping mechanisms – James should be familiar with them. Trauma and loss have given him his fair share of unexplainable behaviour. Things he felt he had to do, without any reasoning behind them. It seems that Silver has found his own way of coping.

James is only just now beginning to understand the severity of what is going on with Silver. It breaks his heart to see Silver so lost. It’s clear to him now that Silver is desperately trying to hold on to something, anything, even if that thing is destroying him. James has been pushing and prying too hard, assuming that Silver was deliberately hiding the truth from James and that his pushing was actually helping. He assumed it would make things easier for both of them if James made Silver admit by force what was going through his mind. Once again, he’s been so wrong in how to deal with Silver. He’s probably done more damage than good and he feels so guilty for making things even harder for Silver when all he wants to do is lift his burdens from him.

Silver looks up at James with a pleading look in his eyes. “Please don’t tell Madi or Thomas.”

“I won’t,” James says. “Promise me you’ll stop doing this.”

Silver swallows. “I can’t,” he whispers. “I can’t promise you that.”

Every time James thinks that they’re moving forward, they stumble back double the distance. James is exhausted. He’s doing everything he can to help Silver, being Silver’s anchor while he himself lies at the bottom of the sea, heavy and cold. But this isn’t about him; this is about Silver’s demons.

Silver must see the hurt and confusion on James’ face, and he must mistake it for repulsion at what Silver is doing, at who he is – which is why he begs for James to tell him the opposite.

“Tell me you love me,” Silver says, choking up. “Despite all of this.”

“I love you,” James says. Because it’s true. James will turn himself inside out, give Silver the last bone in his body if it’s what he needs. “I love you, just like this.”

Again, James longs to take Silver into his arms, but he doesn’t dare to approach him. Physical touch is no longer a source of comfort.

_Helpless. Trapped._

“I just want to be normal,” Silver says quietly. “I don’t want to be like this. Making everything so goddamn difficult.”

“John. Look at me,” James says.

Silver hesitatingly lifts his eyes until he meets James’ gaze.

“John Silver,” James says softly. “You are so, so very human. You are so unbelievably strong. You have suffered so much, so much more than anyone should ever have to. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It is more than you should be able to bear. Yet here you are. Breathing, alive. Struggling, but _here._ ” James dares to take a step forward, towards Silver, only to be able to better look him in the eye. “You’re not alone. I’m here for you. Whatever this is, I’m going to help you get through it. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Silver’s lower lip trembles. James is standing close enough that Silver can reach out and grab James’ shirt. Silver holds on to him like that, before he gently pulls, making James sway forward. James lifts his arms and Silver leans into him, allowing James to embrace him.

James doesn’t dare to wrap his arms around Silver tight. He rests his hands loosely on Silver’s back, at the height of his shoulder blades. He can smell the sour stench of sick on Silver but it doesn’t matter because Silver is here, in his arms, and it’s the sweetest mercy James has ever received.

He can feel Silver’s body starting to shake and for a moment James fears that he’s made Silver uncomfortable again, until he hears quiet sobs rising from where Silver has his face pressed into James’ shoulder. And James can’t help himself; he cries with Silver, because he’s holding him so close yet he feels so far away. Silver is out there on his own, fighting a battle that James doesn’t know how to help him with, struggling with an enemy that James can’t protect him from. All he can do is be there for Silver, look after him, clean and stitch up his wounds; but he cannot do the healing for him.

“I’m sorry for wasting the supper you made,” Silver sobs.

James’ voice sounds shaky when he speaks. “You really think I’m mad about that?”

“You aren’t?”

James blinks. “Well, it’s not like I have never spat out any of _your_ cooking.”

The words leave his mouth before he’s had a chance to think about them. He’s heard himself clearly but he can’t believe that he’s making a fucking _joke_ at a time like this. There’s not a lot to laugh about considering the circumstances they’re in, considering how absolutely miserable they’re both feeling.

“True,” Silver says. “But to be honest – that pig really was awfully disgusting.”

James chuckles, and then he laughs, and Silver laughs with him. Because they’re hopeless, at the bottom, and this is all they have left. To laugh in their demons’ faces.

Silver looks up at Flint, his eyes glistening in the last light of the day. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “For putting up with my shit since the start. I know I’m not the easiest person to live with, but I see everything you do for me and…” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I love you too. Don’t you dare ever doubt that.”

James smiles softly at him. He brushes aside some strands of hair that have fallen in front of Silver’s face. “Come back inside,” he says. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

As they walk back to the house, James thinks of Marcus Aurelius again.

_Never will something happen to someone that he cannot handle._

And, it’s true: It feels like something has changed, and they are slowly, surely finding ways to get their shoulders under this weight.

Silver isn’t a shell: he is the ocean, evermoving like the waves, everchanging like the tide. James is swimming in his arms, can taste the salt on his tongue, caught in the deep blue of his eyes. Silver is the tide that pushes and pulls at him in a tender rhythm. There is an endless depth within him, and James is only floating at the surface. Silver would never let him sink to the bottom of the sea – he was always there to grab James’ hand and pull him back up. And James will do the same for him – he will never let Silver drown, sink into himself, into the dark and lonely depths of him. He will pull him back up.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember in 3x03 when Silver refused to take his rations? He did that because he knew how it would look to the crew, but maybe he also did it partly because this was something that he could control, while he was having trouble dealing with Flint. 
> 
> Marcus Aurelius quotes are from book VII, part 58 / book V, part 18 / book IV, part 26 / book IV, part 10. I translated them myself from Dutch.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3 I'm @undiscovereduniverse on tumblr.


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